Page 57 of Bratva Knight

I raised a hand in the air, silencing him. “I don’t need to know what you want them for. I just need to know how many and when you need them by.”

“I’ll need a case of each by the end of the week.”

It was definitely doable. We had everything he was asking for and I could easily organise delivery. The question remained though: was he the type of man we wanted to do business with?

“Deposit for such an order would be fifty grand.”

“Deposit?” he frowned. “I never needed to pay a deposit when I worked with Valentino.”

“Valentino took risks. That’s why his ass is sitting in federal prison right now. The Bratva do not take risks. If you want to work with us, it will be on our terms, our rules. You can take it or leave it.”

His lips pursed in obvious distaste. He was used to being the man in charge, dictating his own rules. Not having them forced upon him. Especially by someone who was his junior. Men like him hated listening to anyone younger than them.

“Fine. You have a deal. I can wire you the money.”

I shook my head. “Cash only. We don’t leave a paper trail.”

Annoyance flared in his eyes and he grumbled under his breath, “Valentino always did wire transfers.”

I made a quick note and then shut my binder, putting the lid back on my pen. I took a deep breath, tapping my fingers together as I studied him closely. My gut was telling me that he couldn’t be trusted. Based on this one, small interaction, I could tell he acted impulsively, that he let his emotions get the better of him. Coupled with the fact that he didn’t like being told what to do—and he had a problem taking orders from anyone younger than himself—and it meant working with him was a recipe for disaster.

I could only imagine what would happen if Lukyan tried telling him what to do.

He was the worst type of client.

“I’m going to be frank with you, Mr Delacourt. The Bratva will not be doing business with you.”

He blinked, waiting for me to elaborate. When I didn’t, his confusion turned to anger. “Is this a joke? Because if it is, it isn’t funny.”

“I don’t joke.”

He abruptly got to his feet, his chair crashing to the ground. “Who the fuck do you think you are,boy?” he hissed. He pressed his hands flat against the surface of the table and leant forward, trying to intimidate me by getting in my personal space. “Now you listen to me, you little shit. If you think—”

I jumped up and smashed his face down onto the table, my fingers gripping the back of his neck tightly. He struggled, grunting with excretion, but the grip I had on his nape made it impossible for him to escape.

“Nowyoulisten tome,” I whispered darkly in his ear, “I don’t take kindly to threats, or being treated with disrespect.” I pulled out a knife and held it right in front of his eye. He stiffened, going deadly still. “I want you to pick your next wordsverycarefully, Mr Delacourt, because what you say next will determine whether or not you walk out of here alive.”

He swallowed nervously, his gaze locked on the knife millimeters away from piercing his eye. If he so much as flinched, he’d lose it.

“I apologise.”

“For?” I pressed. Apologises didn’t mean a damn thing unless you knew what you were apologising for.

“For talking to you like shit, okay?! Let me go.”

I held him for a few seconds longer, just so that he understood I wasn’t letting him go because he demanded it. That I was doing it becauseIchose to.

My grip loosened and he flung himself back, putting distance between us. I saw the exact moment that he decided to make a move flash across his face, his hand moving to his waist.

“Do it and I’ll kill you before you even get the chance to pull that gun,” I warned, my muscles tensing in preparation.

His hand hovered in the air right next to his hip, his fingers moving back and forth slightly like he was justitchingto pick it up. We stood there, staring at each other like we were in an old-fashioned western duel, just waiting to see who would make the first move. It would take him half a second to clasp his gun. Another two seconds to pull it out and aim it at me. Plenty of time for me to kill him before he got a shot off.

Alex growled in frustration, all but slamming his foot as he stood down. I kept my guard up, watching him closely.

“You’ve made a big mistake,boy,” he sneered. “You have no idea who you’re fucking with. You’ll never get work in this city again. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Really?” I drawled. “I guess New York will now be the safest city in the world then, won’t it? Since there’ll be no more guns coming in at all.”

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